


Citron Candy

by ItsYourLife



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Domestic Discipline, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hashirama and Tobirama - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Hashirama, Madara and Izuna - Freeform, Non-Sexual Spanking, Punishment, Senju Tobirama Needs a Hug, Spanking, Tobirama hates Madara, Tobirama hates izuna, Tobirama hates the uchiha, Tobirama is racist, Trouble, child Hashirama, child Hashirama senju, child Madara, child Madara uchiha, kid Hashirama senju, kid Madara, kid Madara uchiha, teenaged Hashirama, teenaged Hashirama senju, teenaged Madara, teenaged madara uchiha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsYourLife/pseuds/ItsYourLife
Summary: Two years ago, Hashirama and Madara escaped from their clans and the tyranny of their fathers to begin a new life elsewhere and took eight-year-old Izuna and Tobirama with them. Now they've made friends and a home for themselves in a new village. But Hashirama isn't certain that his precious little brother is adjusting well to the changes. Contains spanking of a minor.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Uzumaki Mito
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Citron Candy

15-year-old Senju Hashirama kissed the head of bony, tousled blond hair that belonged to his 10-year-old brother. Tobirama shifted against his pillow. Even in his sleep, his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were downturned in that frown that was so characteristic of him. 

Hashirama sat back on his heels to regard his brother. Even though it's been two years since Madara and I escaped with Izuna and Tobirama to save them from our fathers, I couldn't keep Tobirama from inheriting Father's stubbornness or his bad temper. 

Madi's the same way when it comes to stubbornness and anger, only more explosive, and Izuna's just as bad. It looks like I'm the only one out of the four of us who isn't a firebrand. Hashirama rubbed the back of his head. Madi's my best friend, so I'm used to his quirks. But when it comes to Tobi - I'm not sure I know what I'm doing. No - actually, I'm pretty sure I don't know what I'm doing. And when he and Izuna get together. . .it can be a huge pain.  
Hashirama gave his brother a shake. He spoke softly. "Tobi. . .come on. Time to get up now."  
After a minute or two of groaning, tossing, blanket-clutching resistance, a none-too-happy Tobirama yielded and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He was sure to make his displeasure known. "Why do I have to get up? I'm going trick-or-treating tonight, so why don't I get to sleep late?"  
"Tobi, you can't be serious!" Hashirama pointed in the direction of the window. "Do you realize what time it is? The sunlight's practically making puddles on the floor. You've been sleeping all morning! I sat up hours after you went to sleep and worked on that costume of yours. I know how fussy you are about the way you want that mask to look, so if you want to get it just right before the sun sets, you'd better get started on it now!"  
Tobirama dragged himself out of bed. "You're always yelling at me! The mask won't take me that long. I could've finished the whole costume myself last night if you hadn't made me go to bed!"  
"That's not true. After you spent half the day fighting with Izuna, you were almost dead on your feet, and you know it!" Hashirama handed Tobirama a bowl of porridge. "Here. You slept so long that it got cold, but I heated it up over the fireplace for you."  
Tobirama prodded at the mass of congealed oats. "They're all hard and crusty," he moaned. "Why do I have to eat breakfast, anyway, Older Brother? I'm not hungry, and oatmeal's disgusting. I might as well just eat a bowl of boiled baby cockroaches."  
"Just eat it, Otouto," Hashirama remonstrated. "If this is the way you're going to act all day, you should just stay home. I don't know what you want a mask for, anyway. That grumpy face of yours is enough to scare all the neighbors."  
Tobirama scowled into his oatmeal. "Leave me alone, Older Brother!"

Hashirama knew that his little brother had wanted to say "shut up," but that even he knew better than to go that far. As he turned away to conceal his laughter, the door opened, and, as he always did when he came to visit, Madara invited himself inside.  
Tobirama plunked his spoon down. "Hey, Uchiha-san! Can't you knock for once in your life?"  
Hashirama sweatdropped. "Stop it, Tobi," he chided, though, while he'd long given up on saying as much aloud, Madara knew that he shared his brother's sentiments. I wish Tobi would stop calling him "Uchiha-san." He has to know it sounds stupid because "Uchiha" is a clan name and Madara has lots of clan members. He just does it to torture me. I made him stop calling Madara by his name alone out of respect, but he won't be caught dead calling him "big brother Madara."  
Madara offered his hosts a sheepish grin. "Heh, sorry about that; always slips my mind. But check my brother out!"  
Madara stepped aside to make way for their next guest - a fat, ink-black cockroach of unearthly size. With its flat, grainy, curd-yellow eyes, it locked gazes with Hashirama, whose bodily temperature dropped by at least fifty degrees. He wanted to cry out and flee, but his feet refused to move, and his scream was trapped somewhere between his chest and his throat.  
The sound of boisterous laughter jerked Hashirama out of his trance. The cockroach removed his headgear to reveal the grinning face of Izuna.

"Hashi, you should see the look on your face!" Madara managed out between shouts of mirth. "I knew you were a wimp about roaches, but I never knew you were that much of a wimp! I told you it was Izuna, and you still almost fainted like a little old grandma. Come on, your little brother was tougher than you!"  
Indeed, little Tobirama had positioned himself between the "roach" and his big brother with a ring of shuriken in one hand and a kunai in the other. Even now, he continued to stand protectively in front of Hashirama, and, though he could only see the back of his head, Hashirama knew that he was shooting poisoned daggers at Izuna and Madara with his eyes.

When he could speak again, Hashirama cried, "MADI! You're enough of a jerk by yourself; why'd you have to put Izuna up to torturing me, too?"  
"It's Halloween, and you're our neighbor. Don't tell me you didn't see that coming, big brother Hashi." Izuna turned around to give Hashirama a complete view of his costume, showing off his stiff, glossy black bamboo-slat-and-gossamer wings. "Or did you think I was keeping my costume a surprise just so I could compete with Tobirama?"

An angry Tobirama leapt forward. "I told you not to call my older brother your big brother, you stupid cockroach!"  
"Tobi!" Hashirama put his hand on Tobirama's head and attempted to steer him over to his side. "Cut it out! Madara and Izuna were just playing; you know that. You don't need to try and protect Oniichan."

For Izuna, however, the fun was only beginning. "Hey, Tobi! Where's your costume? Isn't your big brother finished with it yet?" Izuna was proud of having made his costume without help.

"Hey, Izuna," Tobirama shot back, "why'd you waste time making a costume? That peaked face of yours and that cloak of shaggy black hair you've got make you look more like a cockroach than any mask ever could!"  
Hashirama spoke sharply. "Tobi!"

"At least I don't look like a mixture of a crossdresser and a poodle like you, blond pretty boy!"

" 'Pretty boy' doesn't mean anything coming from you. You're as ugly as hell!"

"Tobi!"

"Well, it's not like you -" 

Madara cut in to end the quarrel on his brother's end. "Shut up, Izuna!" Izuna obeyed immediately, albeit not at all cheerfully. "I brought you here to show Hashi your costume, not so you and Tobi could start one of your arguments. Let me catch you saying one more thing to him and see if I don't use the wings of that costume for kindling!"  
Izuna paled and maintained his silence, even when Tobirama smirked in his direction. Hashirama dismissed his brother with a poke in the ribs. "You still have porridge, Tobi. Go. Eat."  
Tobirama was still choking oatmeal down, and Izuna had run home to hang his costume up, when, to Hashirama's alarm, the door swung inward again without a knock. He didn't know of anyone other than Madara who entered without asking for permission. This new intruder was a basket containing a mountainous, teetering load of pumpkins and squashes. As the walking basket made its way inside, one of its feet got caught on the doorjamb, and the pumpkins and squashes all came tumbling to the floor.  
Hashirama and Madara, recognizing her flying red hair, scrambled to catch Uzumaki Mito before she skidded to the floor along with her pumpkins, but only succeeded in stumbling over them and crashing themselves. All three youngsters managed to sit upright, sore, nursing their bumps and bruises.  
"Are you all right, Mito?"

"Sorry, Hashirama." An abashed Mito did her best to gather her fallen fruits up. "I would have knocked, but my hands were full."

"Well, you could've at least yelled to let us know you were coming," Madara groaned, "especially if you'd been dumb enough to try to carry half a ton of squashes by yourself!"  
"You should've called Madi and me for help," Hashirama scolded. "Or if you were set on doing it yourself, why couldn't you have used a wagon?" He began to turn the poor squashes over and inspect them.

"I did use a wagon, you dummies, and it broke down; that's why I carried the squashes in myself! I didn't want to make an extra trip all the way here just to ask you two for help and listening to your complaining!"  
"I'd never have complained about the heavy lifting if it was for the sake of our jack-o'-lantern parade! Look at this one; it's bruised." Hashirama could have wept.

"This one is, too." Madara rolled a squash over. "Bruised squashes won't be any good as jack-o'-lanterns!"  
Mito bristled. "Excuse me? Are your precious jack-o'-lanterns all you two care about? What about all the bruises on me? I'm the one who brought you the squashes to begin with!"

Unfortunately for himself and for his friend, Madara, unlike Hashirama, wasn't wise enough to keep his mouth shut. "Hey, why should we be crying about the bruises on you when we're just as banged-up as you are and it's your fault to begin with?"

Mito's right fist connected with Madara's skull, her left with that of the hapless Hashirama. "That's why, you ungrateful jerk!"  
"Why'd you clunk me, Mito?" Hashirama protested pitifully once the multi-colored stars had cleared from his vision. "I didn't even say anything."

"Oh, stop whining already, both of you!" Mito rose with an armful of squashes. "We're making jack-o'-lanterns, not pumpkin-themed works of world-class art! If a few tiny bruises bother you so much, we can all just carve the eyes, noses and mouths over the bruised spots. Remember, this is the first Halloween we and your little brothers have ever celebrated. So lighten up and focus on having fun! Come on, help me carry these to the kitchen."

Madara and Hashirama, still grimacing with pain, trailed after her. As she passed Tobirama, Mito paused to greet him with, "Hi, Tobi-kun," and plant a kiss on his hair. Tobirama bowed his head in a vain attempt to conceal his blush.  
"You know, Madi," Hashirama couldn't help but to remark when he and his friends were out of earshot of the two younger kids, "you don't need to be so rough with Izuna. You probably should've known putting him up to a prank like that would start trouble between him and Tobi."

Mito reentered the kitchen, lugging a sizeable pumpkin, just in time to catch the last sentence. She knelt to set her burden down. "What prank?"

"It was no prank," Madara scoffed. "I just let Hashi see Izuna in his new costume. I even told him it was Izuna before he set foot through the door, and he still freaked out."

Mito's eyes narrowed. "Oh, really? And just what was Izuna dressed as?"

Madara feigned deafness, and Hashirama was too embarrassed to reply. "Anyway, the problem isn't that I'm too rough on my brother. You're just way too soft on yours, Hashi."  
"Don't start with that again, Madi. Just because I don't challenge my brother to fistfights out on our front lawn or break his stuff if he misbehaves doesn't mean I'm too soft!"

The bridge of Madara's nose went crimson. "Hey, is that supposed to be a shot at me? I threatened him, but I wouldn't actually break my brother's stuff, and I'm not some jerk who beats him, either, you know! Giving him a smack once in a while isn't the same as what our fathers used to do to us. All I'm saying is if you tried it with Tobirama, maybe he'd listen to you the way Izuna listens to me!"  
"Keep your voice down," Hashirama implored him. "Don't get riled up. I know you aren't anything like our fathers were. But. . .how can you be so confident, so sure of yourself? We're all that Izuna and Tobirama have now, and I don't feel like I know what I'm doing at all. Our father. . .even though he went on and on about the Senju clan being the clan of peace and love and forgiveness, he was the hardest, most unforgiving man I'd ever met." He bowed his head, and his hands formed fists. "That's why - why I feel like the best I can do is to try to be the opposite of that man. . . in every way."  
Hashirama's outburst had mollified Madara, who, for the first time ever, had nothing to say. He didn't have the answers, either. 

It was Mito who placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of each boy and broke the silence. "Madara, Hashirama . . . I don't know anything about looking after a little sibling. But you don't need visual prowess to see how much you two care about Izuna and Tobirama. . .how hard you try to look after them and keep them safe. To me. . .love is the most important - the most powerful force in the world, and I know if the care you two show your little brothers reflects even half of what you feel for them in your hearts, you're the ones who will help them learn that the Uchiha clan and the Senju clan are both clans of peace and love."  
"Mito." That was all that Hashirama could say, and Madara, who disliked being sentimental, said nothing at all. But the eyes of the young men reflected the gratitude that they didn't express with words.  
xxxxxxXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxx

By the time that all of the squashes had been relocated to the kitchen and Tobirama had finally consumed enough porridge to satisfy his brother, then had shut himself up in his room to work on his mask, the design of which, he'd insisted, must be a surprise, Hashirama's other friends and fellow jack-o-lantern-makers, about a dozen young people, had arrived to flood the house.  
The jack-o'-lantern carving commenced, and Hashirama and Madara were forced to admit that a few bruised pumpkin and squash shells here and there weren't the end of the world. After finishing her first jack-o'-lantern, Mito commanded her guests to clear the way around the stove, assembled ingredients in a large pot and began to make the citron-juice candy that the neighborhood kids loved so much. The sweet, tart, perfume-like aroma soon filled the house from corner to corner. Everyone was merry, chattering and bantering over their work, boasting about their jack-o'-lanterns if they'd turned out beautifully, goodnaturedly accepting the teasing of their friends if the faces they'd carved were unevenly-featured or resembled, as Madara said of Hashirama's first attempt at a lantern, "something a five-year-old sketched with a crayon!"  
Mito, brandishing a ladle, flames of red hair flying, chased Izuna out of the kitchen. "Beat it before I beat you, Izuna-kun! You can't taste the hot syrup; you have to wait for the candy to cool or you'll burn your tongue, you idiot! Come back in here one more time and I'll see that you don't get one piece of my candy tonight!"  
"I'm bored," Izuna lingered outside of the kitchen doorway to grouse. "You older kids won't let me help with the jack-o'-lanterns, and Tobirama's locked up in his room, acting like he's working on his mask, when he's probably just drooling over a picture of big sister Mito. Can I knock on his door to check on him?"  
Madara fired a handful of pumpkin meat in the direction of his mischiefmaker of a brother. "I'll get you in check! 'Bored,' my ass. You just want to start some trouble! First you ruined Sarutobi Hotaru's jack-o'-lantern on purpose with your terrible advice, and now you want to start some kind of fight with Tobi. If you want something to do so badly, get in here and pick up all these pieces of pumpkin shell and stems for us!"

Izuna needed no further incentive to flee the house.  
Late afternoon came and went, and duskfall approached. Jack-o'-lanterns had been finished, and handles had been added to them so that their creators could carry them as they brought up the rear of the neighborhood's party of trick-or-treaters. Mito's candy had been been cooled and broken into large, tasty, translucent citron-colored shards, each of which had been wrapped individually; the candy now sat out on the porch in two large baskets, and above them was a sign with an admonition to any trick-or-treaters who thought of being greedy to take only a few and be considerate of others. The flesh of the pumpkins and squashes had been stored in jars and pots, which would later be shared with friends and neighbors for use in pies, soups and stews. The kitchen had been tidied, the older children were congregating out on the front lawn, and still there was no Tobirama.  
Hashirama decided to check on him. He rapped on his door.  
"Tobi! Is everything ok? It's going to be dark soon. Isn't your mask ready?"

Much to his relief, he was answered with the sound of Tobirama's voice . "I'm fine! I'll come out when I'm ready. Can't you wait for one minute, Older Brother?"

"For one minute? Tobi, you've been in your room all day. I know you're fussy about the way you want to look tonight, but how long can it take to put some paint on a mask?"

This time, an obstinate silence was the only reply that Hashirama got. He shook his head. Kami-sama help me. "Well, if this is the attitude you're going to take, we're not going to wait for you. When the sun goes down, whether you're ready or not, we're leaving."

Tobirama's response came with a little too much alacrity this time. "I don't care! It - it's not finished yet. You guys can go without me. I'll catch up with the trick-or-treaters!"

This did nothing to put Hashirama at ease. His hand came to rest on the doorknob. "What are you doing in there, Tobi?"

"Nothing!" Tobirama, who must have heard the click of a hand upon the doorknob, jammed his little body back-first against the door. He seemed to think better of it, however, and, leaving the door, scrambled around as if to push something out of view. "It's none of your business, Older Brother!"

Madara reentered the house just as Hashirama opened the door. "Hey, Hashi, what's up with Tobi now? The sun's about to -!"

He trailed off, seeing Tobirama, who stood motionless in the middle of the room with one hand behind his back.  
Wordlessly, Hashirama strode into the room and, reaching around, plucked what Tobirama had been attempting to hide from his fingers. It was a mask, but, as Hashirama discovered when he turned it over, not just any mask. Tobirama had used paint to carefully, lovingly decorate it with the markings of a Senju warrior who was preparing for battle. 

Hashirama gazed upon those markings and felt sick to his stomach. When he returned his eyes to Tobirama's face, he found that his little brother was studying the floor now, but his expression held a mixture of shame and defiance. 

So this is why he pretended he wasn't finished with the mask yet. This is why he tried to trick me into going off with the jack-o-lanterners and letting him "catch up" with the other trick-or-treaters later. This wasn't a mistake. He knew how I'd feel about this mask. 

The heat of anger began to build in his chest. He knew. He knows how much we all went through to get him and Izuna away from that hell - away from the hatred and clan pride and the life of a child warrior. He knew, and that's why he - and yet he -

"You lied to me, Tobirama." Hashirama's voice sounded strange and horrible to his own ears. It was unsteady, full of anger - an emotion he'd vowed never to direct towards his little brother. Tobirama's gaze left the floor, and the look in his wide hazel eyes confirmed to Hashirama that he didn't look or sound like himself.

Madara had seen all that had happened. He came over to place a gentle hand on Hashirama's shoulder. "Hey. . . Hashi."

Hashirama closed his eyes. I won't speak to or act in anger towards my beloved little brother. He's just a kid. . .a child. He doesn't know better. I won't give in to this monster called anger. I won't. 

When he spoke again after several moments, he managed not to sound strange. "Madi, give us a minute. We'll be out before it's dark."

Madara retreated and shut the door, and the two brothers were alone. Hashirama seated himself on the bed.  
He'd erased all expression from his face, and his voice was gentle, but restrained. He patted the bed. "Come here, Tobirama."

Tobirama edged over and sat beside his brother. He was struggling, and failing, to continue to look defiant. 

"Tobirama." Hashirama showed him his own mask. "You knew I wouldn't want you to go trick-or-treating wearing something like this. Didn't you?"

Tobirama seemed to consider arguing, but thought better of it. He gave a small nod. Hashirama pressed on. "And why wouldn't I let you wear something like this?"

A lengthy silence, and then Tobirama spoke for the first time since his door had been opened. "Because - because you think people wouldn't like it. . .if we went around wearing our clan markings."

"No, that isn't it. Try again."

Tobirama's voice became smaller as he was forced to admit that he knew the real reason his mask design was unacceptable. "It's because it's - it's covered with warrior's markings."

"And why wouldn't Oniichan want you to go around wearing a mask covered with clan warrior's markings?"

"Because. . .because you think it would. . .remind people of the war."

"And why else?"

"Because you don't like the idea of. . .of me being a kid soldier."  
"Yes, that's right. So, by decorating this mask the way you did, you were trying to do something you weren't supposed to do. Not only that, but you lied to me." 

Because Tobirama was avoiding his gaze now, Hashirama tilted his chin up with two fingers. "What have I told you about when you try to do something you aren't supposed to do?"

Tobirama was silent.

"If you make a mistake or do you something you aren't supposed to, Oniichan will always do what?"

Tobirama's voice was tinier than ever. "Forgive me."

"What should you never, ever do after you misbehave or any other time?"

"Lie to you."  
Hashirama's anger was gone. Tobirama was the picture of remorse, and he wanted nothing more than to take him into his lap (even if he was every bit of ten years old) and assure him that he was forgiven. But Tobirama had lied to him, and the act of lying couldn't go without consequences.

"I would've helped you to decorate another mask, even if we had to do it fast or catch up with the others after dark. But since you lied to me, you can wear your costume without the mask. Go and get dressed, Tobi. Everybody's waiting for us."  
Tobirama gave him a pair of the most hopeless, stricken hazel eyes that he'd ever seen. "But, Older Brother. . .!"

"No 'buts.' Your costume's fine. Lots of kids are going dressed up without masks. You won't look out of place."

Tobirama punched the bed. "I'll be in place, all right - in just the right place for that Uchiha cockroach to make fun of me for not having a mask after I said I'd have one!"

"Don't you ever call Izuna that again, Tobi!" Hashirama spoke as severely as he could. "You haven't been friendly towards Izuna and Madara, and I know Izuna gets on your nerves just as much as you get on his, but for a while, you've at least tried to pretend the main reason you don't like them isn't the fact that they're from the clan we used to go to war with. Don't let this Senju-clan-warrior mask go to your head just because I haven't torn it up or thrown it away. You're not going to start acting the way you did two years ago again!"

"But it isn't fair. I'm sick of Uchiha Izuna. You just stick up for him all the time because he's your best friend's little brother!"  
"No, I don't. I try to straighten you out because you're my little brother. Izuna hasn't pestered you since you sat down to eat breakfast because his older brother's been keeping an eye on him, so I don't want to hear another word about him. If you want to talk, then we'll talk about you. You were very naughty, Tobirama!"

As expected, Tobirama had no desire to talk about himself. He shut his mouth and glowered at the floor.

"You can sulk as much as you want. But you'll either go trick-or-treating without a mask, or we'll both stay here, and you'll miss out on the sweets. I'm not going to let you have any of big sister Mito's citron candy. It's for trick-or-treaters only."

Tobirama looked even more pained than he had when he'd been informed that he wouldn't have a mask to trick-or-treat in, if that were possible. The look smote Hashirama's heart. It wasn't often that Tobirama got to enjoy luxuries such as candy in abundance, and he had a love for his big sister Mito's delicious citron candy that bordered on madness. Hashirama could practically hear the war that the two options were waging in his little brother's mind - endure the disgrace of trick-or-treating without a mask, or be deprived of candy?  
"I - I. . ." Tobirama squared his small shoulders. "I . . .I don't want to go."

Hashirama wasn't certain he was hearing correctly. "Tobi - you. . .?"

"I said I don't want to go." Tobirama snatched the forbidden mask from his brother's lap, then flung it to the floor. "I - I'm not going to go trick-or-treating without a mask so people can make fun of my face just like you do and pretend they think my frown is part of a scary Halloween mask."  
He averted his gaze, but, much to Hashirama's horror, his voice cracked as if he were on the verge of crying. "It's not my fault I have a hard time smiling. You just want the whole world to laugh at me the same way you do."

"Otouto." Hashirama's own eyes filled with tears. "I never meant to hurt your feelings by teasing you; I never do. All I want is for you to be happy. I thought doing something like going trick-or-treating would change things - would make it easier for you to smile. But I can't just let you get away with lying to me. You know that."

He reached for his little brother, but Tobirama wrenched away. He rolled over to lie facedown on his bed. 

"Just leave me alone, Older Brother." His voice was muffled.  
"Tobi, I -"

Tobirama lifted his head a fraction. "Leave me alone! Go away!"

xxxxxxXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxx

"I don't care about missing out on Halloween - not much, anyway. It wouldn't have been any fun to go without Tobi. But he hates me, and I don't know why."

In the moonlight, Hashirama sat with Mito between the roots of the cherry tree on his front lawn. Upon hearing that Hashirama and Tobirama wouldn't be partaking in the festivities of Halloween, Madara had insisted on going in to attempt to reason with Tobirama, then on staying behind himself. Hashirama had refused both offers and, with Izuna's feelings in mind, had forced Madara to go almost at gunpoint. 

Hashirama stared at his hands. "All of this over a stupid mask. No wonder he hates me. I shouldn't have been so strict with him about lying."

"Hashirama." Mito's voice was gentle, but held a firmness that brooked no arguments. "You did the right thing. I remember how, for the first few weeks after you four first came here, Izuna and Tobirama hung around outside and argued and fought and screamed and carried on so badly that the whole neighborhood could hear them. You and Madara couldn't keep them in check because you were too busy working to put bread on the table for them. I'd come out to work in Grandma's garden, and she'd scold me and ask me, 'Why don't you do anything to make those boys settle down? You know their brothers, don't you?' "

Hashirama, hearing a hint of a smile in Mito's voice, blushed. "Yeah. . .I remember that, too, though I wish I didn't."  
"I went out there a few times and talked to them nicely, trying to make peace between them, but it never really worked, and Grandma wouldn't get off my case. One day when they were rowdier than ever, Grandma kicked me out of the house and told me not to come back until I'd made a real effort to straighten those boys out. As usual, I went out there and tried to make peace. After I'd listened and tried to find a solution to petty complaint after petty complaint, the tiny jerks finally admitted the real reason they fought all of the time was because they were from 'enemy' clans. I didn't know anything about hatred and rivalries between clans, so I tried to reason with them for a minute or two before I lost patience and blew up. I told them they must be the stupidest members of their clans if they thought they were getting anything done by bickering like this. We argued back and forth, and then I -"

"Then you told them they could stop fighting eachother or fight you together. I remember."  
"Okay, so maybe it wasn't the most mature, levelheaded thing to do, but it helped, didn't it? Tobi-kun didn't hate me for straightening him out, even if I did do it with my fist. He's not going to hate you, his precious big brother, over a mask that he knew he shouldn't have tried to wear to start with. Lying is a big deal, and he knows you never come down hard on him for anything except lying. Sometimes Tobi-kun is - well, sometimes Tobi-kun's just being Tobi-kun. If you give him some space, I know he'll open up to you and tell you why he's acting like this."

"I guess you're right. But, Mito. . .this. . .this was going to be the first Halloween we ever celebrated." The backs of Hashirama's eyes grew hot. "This isn't the way I wanted to spend it with Tobi. I wanted for us to have fun together."

"It isn't your fault Tobi-kun decided to stay here." Mito's voice was soft. "And it isn't too late for us all to have fun. I have a feeling Tobi-kun will come around before the night's over. Even if he is a grumpy little old man, it isn't like him to miss out on candy if he can help it."

Mito's words comforted Hashirama. "You think it's. . .too early to go check on him?"  
"If I know Tobi-kun, he's probably ready to talk to his big brother right now, but too ashamed to be the one who comes to you." Mito rose. "Come on. I'll bring a piece of candy in case he needs to be bribed a little."

Together, the two friends made their way inside. It was as silent and still in the house as it was bright, noisy and festive outside of it. 

Hashirama knocked on his little brother's door. There was no response.

Either he's still mad at me, or he secretly wants me to come in without asking. Hashirama gave another knock. "Hey, Tobi."

"Tobi-kun!" Mito sang out. "I brought you some candy. Open up!. . . Maybe he went to sleep."

The thought caused Hashirama to feel a pang of guilt. Had his little brother cried himself to sleep on Halloween because of him? If he had, should he let him sleep or wake him up to take him trick-or-treating? He opened the door.

"Tobi?"

The reason for the lack of an answer became apparent when Hashirama surveyed the room. Tobirama was nowhere in sight.  
"He snuck out." Hashirama pushed Tobirama's bedsheets aside, then sifted them, in search of the mask. "I can't be sure, but my guess is that he snuck out to go trick-or-treating. If he did, then that means he's safe - that he didn't run off and get lost somewhere because he was angry." 

Worry was evident in Mito's eyes. "Snuck out? But how? We've been watching the front porch all of this time." 

"Then he must've used the window."

"If the mask isn't lying around anywhere, then I don't think you have anything to worry about - but it's better to be safe than sorry. You keep looking for the mask. I'll catch up with the trick-or-treaters and see if Tobirama's with them."

Before Hashirama could say another word, she went flying off, almost borne up into the air by those wings of beautiful red hair. Uzumaki Mito. What would I ever do without you?  
Hashirama fairly turned the bedroom inside out in search of the mask. Then, to reassure himself that it really wasn't there, he searched a second time. He was preparing to set off after Mito when he heard the opening of the front door. With his heart in his throat, he hurried into the front room.

"Tobi!"

Mito had the little boy by the arm. His lower lip had been split; the blood was still fresh. He was wearing his costume, but not his mask, which, Hashirama soon noticed, was broken; its halves hung dangling from Tobirama's fist by the string of the mask. He offered no resistance when Mito steered him inside, but he didn't look at anyone. 

Mito relinquished her hold on him. "Well. . .you can stop worrying now. He did sneak out to go trick-or-treating, after all." Her shoulders rose and fell. "He and Izuna got into a fistfight. The older kids had to break it up. Don't ask me how it started; I don't know. I only know that Izuna smashed Tobirama's mask and gave him a split lip, and Tobirama bloodied Izuna's nose."  
So all that talk about not wanting to go trick-or-treating, all of that emotion he showed earlier was just an act. While Mito and I were worrying about him, wondering whether he was ok, he played us for fools and snuck out - and it all ended in a fistfight with Izuna, the first one he's had in months. 

"I'll patch Tobi's lip up. Thanks, Mito. You should go get some rest." 

xxxxxxXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxx

Oniichan hasn't said anything since big sister Mito left. He hasn't looked me in the eye.  
In the kitchen now, Hashirama began to clean the cut on Tobirama's lower lip. His gaze never traveled higher than that lip. He was not as gentle with the cotton swab as he usually might have been, but Tobirama did his best not to fidget. 

"Older Brother . . ."

"Just be quiet. I can't fix your lip if you keep moving it, idiot."

Tobirama didn't venture to speak uninvited again. In silence, the cut on his lip was cleaned, then coated with an herbal cream. Hashirama discarded the cotton swab.

"Take your costume off and hang it up."

Tobirama obeyed. He lingered in the doorway of his closet to regard the costume. The two halves of the broken mask lay on the floor.

If he told me to hang my costume up, then that means we aren't going to celebrate Halloween tonight. He turned away, headed for the front room. I guess I should've known that already. Uchiha Madara and Izuna probably aren't going to get to do anything tonight, and if they can't because of the fight, Oniichan isn't going to take me to do anything, either. But Oniichan. . .Oniichan wasn't going to get to celebrate Halloween, anyway. I ruined Halloween for him, then snuck out and tried to celebrate it without him so I could wear that mask. Maybe. . .maybe this is something he won't forgive me for . . .ever.

When Tobirama rejoined him in the living room, Hashirama spoke again, at last. "What happened?"

Tobirama sat at the feet of his brother. Now that the heat of the passion that had driven him to sneak out was gone, he could see his actions more clearly. Nothing was left for him except shame and remorse. He had to swallow the lump that was gathering in his throat before he spoke.

"Izuna was the one who started it, Older Brother. He made fun of the Senju clan and said it was a clan of sissies. He punched me first. I - I wasn't trying to start a fight with him." 

Hashirama cut him off. "Then why did you wear that mask when you snuck out? Did you think Izuna of all kids wouldn't recognize those markings and try to start something with you?"

Tobirama rummaged about for an answer and came up empty-handed.

"Don't try to tell me you just wanted a chance to wear a mask, have fun and eat candy. If you'd painted another mask and snuck out wearing that, I'd believe you. You snuck out because you wanted to wear that mask. You put on an act to fool me - lied to me again - and left the house at night without giving me any way of knowing for sure where you were all because you had to wear that mask. You didn't get any candy. You didn't get to have any fun. You got only two things on the first Halloween you've ever celebrated - a broken mask and that busted lip of yours. Was that what you wanted, Tobirama? Was that your endgame?"

Tobirama felt the hot dampness of oncoming tears, which he blinked hard to suppress. "No. I. . ."

Hashirama's hand slammed down onto the floor, startling him. He raised his voice. "Then why? Why did you do what you did, Tobirama?"

Against Tobirama's will, the tears came, and he bowed his head. Oniichan thinks I wore the mask to start a fight with Izuna on purpose. I said I didn't, but I - I don't know. I don't know why I did it. And now Oniichan hates me. 

"I'm sorry." His voice was choked. Tobirama seldom cried openly or apologized with so much sincerity, let alone without being prompted. "F-f-forgive me, Older Brother." 

Hashirama spoke again after what seemed to be an eternity. 

"Why should I forgive you?" He was no longer raising his voice. His tone, as it had when he'd tended to Tobirama's wound in the kitchen, had all of the quietness and restraint that it usually did when he scolded Tobirama, but had none of the gentleness. 

Restraint. When Oniichan talks to me quietly like that. . .it's because he's trying not to show his emotions. I didn't start to realize it till today, when he got mad at me about the mask, then tried not to show his anger. But I can't tell what kinds of emotions he's hiding from me now.

Hashirama went on. "Even if you cry, Tobirama, I can't just forgive you this time - not after you pretended you were about to cry to fool me earlier." Tobirama flinched. "I forgave you for trying to wear that mask even though you knew how wrong it was. I only tried to give you a consequence for lying to me. You turned around and lied to me again, then threw the consequence I gave you in the trash by being sneaky. Those are the consequences you gave me for forgiving you. And now - how can I be sure you're not trying to fool me the way you did earlier?" 

Tobirama opened his mouth, but was unable to get any words out. With blurred vision, he tried to read his brother's face. Hashirama was staring past him and at the wall.  
Oniichan won't look at me. He - he hates me now. That's the emotion he's hiding from me.

The tears flowed faster. Tobirama pulled his knees up to his chest and hid his face in an effort to muffle the first sob. Once that first sob was out, more followed, fast, uncontrollable, violent enough to shake him from head to toe and make him fear his chest would burst. 

It hurts, and I can't stop. But even if I cried myself to death, it couldn't be any worse than being here and having Oniichan hate me. Oniichan thinks my crying is fake - that I just want to trick him again. Tobirama wrapped his arms around his knees. But right now - to me - these tears are the only thing that's real.

"Tobi." 

The change in Hashirama's voice caused Tobirama to lift his head. Blurred though his vision was, he could see that Hashirama was blinking back tears of his own.

"I'm s-s-sorry, Oniichan." Only when Tobirama felt small and fragile and as though he were already breaking did he call Hashirama "big brother." "I'm sorry I ruined Halloween. You h-h-hate me now. . .!"

"No." Hashirama's hands came to cup Tobirama's wet cheeks. "I could never hate you. I love you. It's because I love you that I can't forgive you the way I did before. That's because Oniichan misunderstood. . . what it meant to forgive. I was trying so hard not to be like our father. But to forgive doesn't mean never to correct someone for a bad act. It means not to hold the act against him in your heart." 

"But why?" Words came pouring out of Tobirama. "Why do we always have to try not to be like father - like our clan? Don't tell me I'm just a child and don't know how bad things were - back then. I know things were hard. I know father was mean and hard-hearted. But I - I - when I put that mask on. . . I felt happy. I felt something warm and relaxing in my heart. I don't know why I felt that way. I'm a bad person. But I - Oniichan, I hate it here! I want to go home. . .!"

Before he realized it, he was sitting on Hashirama's lap. Hashirama took his chin into his hand.

"Otouto, we are home."

"But h-h-how can you say that?" Tobirama quavered. "What - what makes this place our home?"

Though his eyes shone with tears, Hashirama smiled at him. He placed his hand on Tobirama's chest, startling him.

"Oniichan felt the same way you did when we first came here. Whether you believe it or not, my heart was heavy and quivered and wanted to be warmed - the same way yours does. Even though we left Father and our clan, the sadness and the fear. . .we carried them with us. They didn't disappear overnight just because we were in a different village - they couldn't. And coming to a new place where we didn't know anyone - with nothing - and trying to start a new life - brought us more sadness and fear. For a while, Oniichan hated it here, too."

"Oniichan. . .you. . .?"

"That's right. But this place is our home now because here, we have people like big sister Mito and our kind neighbors, the grandmothers who bake pumpkin pies and the kids who wanted to go trick-or-treating with us. It's our home because we have Madara, who loves me, but loves you, too - and even Izuna, who doesn't hate us for being Senju anymore." Hashirama began to dry Tobirama's eyes with his own hand. "Can't you see that he loves me enough to call me his big brother Hashi? If you gave him just one tiny chance, I know he'd come to love you the same way. The mask you wear, Tobi, makes you feel safe and warm sometimes, but when you wear it, it puts up a barrier between you, Oniichan and all of our new friends. Without that mask, you'd get to feel the warmth and safety and happiness that come from the love of our friends. I want to see you smile. Even with the love of our friends, I can't be completely happy if you aren't smiling - because there's one more thing that makes or breaks a home for me, and that thing is you, Tobi."

Tobirama fell forward and buried his face into his brother's chest. The tears and sobs continued to come, but now they were sobs of relief and tears of love.

"I know," Hashirama whispered. His arms encircled Tobirama. "I know, Otouto. Shhhhh. Ohhhhh, Tobi. I'm so sorry I couldn't see your pain before. Oniichan never wants to make you cry. There, there. I've got you."

In his brother's arms, Tobirama cried himself into exhaustion. As he sat there afterwards, being slowly rocked, the exhaustion became a peaceful drowsiness.

"I'm sorry, Older Brother. . .for - for. . .everything I did."

"Don't ever disobey me again." The rocking halted. "You idiot. What if someone bigger and stronger than Izuna had decided he didn't like that mask and attacked you? You lied to me two times, and you made big sister Mito and me worry. We didn't know whether you'd gone off to trick-or-treat or run off to the middle of nowhere because you were upset. You're tired, so I'll feed you and put you to bed. But in the morning, I'm going to beat your butt. That's a promise that I won't break!" 

Tobirama cringed. The most severe thing that Hashirama had ever done to him was pinch or pluck his earlobe. As he allowed himself to be held close, he tried to reassure himself that Hashirama had meant a figurative "butt-beating," not a real one. But the "in the morning" and "that's a promise I won't break!" parts made it a little too intense and specific for Tobirama's comfort. 

xxxxxxXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxx

Tobirama was as quiet as a mouse that next morning. He didn't grumble about being woken or about the oat porridge he was served. Hashirama stepped out of the house when he was halfway through the bowl of "boiled baby cockroaches." 

Hashirama was gone for a while, but, though he was severely tempted, Tobirama didn't take the opportunity to rid himself of the boiled oats. He'd forced the last morsel down and was preparing to steal out onto the porch to see whether any of Mito's citron candy was left there when Hashirama reentered the house. Tobirama's heart plummeted when he saw what he'd brought with him - a stick that was at least as long as his own forearm and thicker than Hashirama's forefinger. He scrambled to his feet and backed towards the wall.

"Older Brother. . .!"

"It's ok, Tobi." Hashirama lowered the stick. "Oniichan will never hurt you. I'm not going to beat you with this - not this time. But I won't make the same promise if you ever disobey me or lie to me again. I'm going to hang this up on the wall as a reminder and a warning. For what you did yesterday, I'm just going to give you a spanking."

Tobirama was still apprehensive, but about half of his fear had been replaced with utter bewilderment. His eyes followed his brother as he came over to place his new instrument of chastisement on the table.

"A - spanking? Look, quit making pervy jokes, Older Brother! I'm ten years old. Isn't a spanking a weird thing people do to little kids?" 

"It isn't pervy, and I'm not making jokes," Hashirama declared calmly. "If spanking is good enough for a little kid, it's good enough for you. I'm never, ever going to whip you or hit you with my fist or shove you around. That may be the kind of 'discipline' we've been taught is normal, but it's wrong." 

"But how is it wrong?" Tobirama moaned. "Madara hits Izuna, and I bet he doesn't spank him on his butt!"

"I wonder about that." Hashirama seated himself on the nearest chair. "But I'm not Madara, and you're not Izuna. Now come here and bend over my knee so I can spank you."

When Tobirama, petrified with nervousness and embarrassment, didn't budge, Hashirama patted his lap a few times, repeating his command without a word.

Tobirama spared a glance in the direction of the door, but resisted the urge to try to run away. Running away, disobeying - he'd done enough of that already. Besides, if Hashirama didn't catch him and bring him back, big sister Mito, Madara or another neighbor certainly would. His stomach tied itself into knots, and his eyes dampened. This was bound to be unpleasant, but he was more afraid of the embarrassment and of what Hashirama would say to him than of the pain. Hashirama's words could sting as badly as any slap. On legs that weighed a ton apiece, Tobirama made his way over to his brother's side. He lowered himself across his lap before the first tears fell.

Hashirama's left hand came to rest on his back, securing him so that he couldn't jump out of place. After several long moments, this thing that Hashirama called a spanking began with a slap that was hard enough to make Tobirama jump. He caught his breath and managed not to cry out. Another smack landed, then another, one that almost seemed to flatten his upturned bottom.

I - I won't yell or scream. I'm still a shinobi, even if I am just a kid - even if I'm not a Senju warrior anymore. . .

The slaps continued to land, slow, deliberate, one after the other. Sometimes Hashirama's hand struck from above, stinging the center of Tobirama's bottom; at other times, the slaps came in from behind, targeting more sensitive spots. Tobirama squeezed his eyes shut, but couldn't dam the tears. The worst part then began.

"You were very naughty, Tobi." A spank punctuated every few words. A crack began to form at the bottom of Tobirama's heart. "I've told you again and again how important it is for us not to bring any signs of our clan's old arrogance and boastfulness and aggression here with us. Oniichan brought you here to protect you from hatred and war, but you keep being pigheaded!"

The crack line began to lengthen, traveling upwards. That horrible lump gathered in Tobirama's throat. His grip on himself was weakening, and he knew that within a minute, he'd be crying in earnest.

"There's a reason I tell you not to lie to me no matter what you do." The heat spread across Tobirama's bottom. It was as if his backside was a wrinkled shirt and Hashirama's hand was an iron, warming the creases out of him with the rain of smacks. "It's bad enough to have you misbehave. But how can I protect you if I don't know where you are or what you're doing? Tobirama, if you ever leave at night without telling me where you're going again, I'll take that stick and hit you with it until it breaks!" 

Tobirama himself broke. Any attempts to be stoic ended. He squirmed over his brother's knee and raked the floor with his feet. The cries and whimpers of pain came out between sobs. 

"Oniichan, I'm sorry. . ." 

"You should be." More of those horrible smacks that came in from behind. "And if you ever lie to me again, I'll do what I'm doing to you now, but on bare skin! And you're going to stop butting heads with Izuna all the time. Do you understand me?"

"Y-y-yes." Tobirama was on the verge of being unable to speak. "I'm sorry! P-p-please. . .!"

"You say that you're sorry." Hashirama began to sting the backs of his thighs, and Tobirama came close to screaming. "But what are you sorry for? What will you never do again?"

"I w-w-won't disobey you anymore! I'll - I'll - it h-h-hurts. . . I won't . . ."

"What else?" The smacks became harder. "What else do you promise not to do?"  
Tobirama's answer came several cries of pain later. "I won't sneak out. I won't fight with Izuna anymore!"

Hashirama persisted. "And what else?"

"I'll never lie. . .to you. . .again. . .!"

A few more spanks landed, and Tobirama was scooped up. Once again, he bawled into Hashirama's chest.

"Thank you, Otouto." Hashirama's own voice was a little unsteady, but there was nothing unsteady about his embrace. "Shhhhh. I forgive you."

"I - I want candy, Older Brother." Tobirama's voice was muffled by his brother's shirt, which was sodden with tears. "C-can I have some?"

He felt Hashirama's thin, brown fingers combing his hair. "Otouto, if you'd gone trick-or-treating, you would have had candy. You don't deserve any, but I'm sure big sister Mito's saved a few pieces. If you apologize for making her worry, she just might give you some."

Tobirama's mouth watered at the thought of citron candy. Big sister Mito's candy's sweet and sour and as bright yellow as the sun. But it isn't only the candy I'm happy about. 

He drew back to look into his brother's smiling face. It's Big sister Mito herself. . .Oniichan. . .Madara and even that jerk Izuna. . .it's the thought of them that's giving me that safe, warm feeling in my heart. And this time, it isn't a fake warmth like the one I clung to by wearing that mask. This time, the warmth is real. I think it really does come from that feeling called. . .love.

Hey there! I hang out on a new discord server that galaxyqueenie started. Join it if you are interested in non sexual spanking fanfics, roleplay, and other fun stuff!❤️: https://discord.gg/YvKrZKD


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